Tats
by Blue Moons and Pink Suns
Summary: It's the first heat wave of the spring, and no one's happy. S3-S4 gap. Slight Caryl.


**AN #1: A rewrite of an older ficlet. :) Hope you enjoy!******

**Disclaimer: I do not own or write for TWD or AMC. I am not making any profit from this; just doing it for fun. :)******

**-/-/-/-**

It was hot.

The fence clearers were barely moving, simply flinging their tools through the chain link. Carl was laid out in the garden on his back, sprawled out eagle with his sheriff hat over his head. Rick was on his knees weeding, shirt gone and boots off.

Daryl stood on the watchtower, a semi-automatic in hand. A crossbow was only good for about forty yards, but to be honest, he could not care less at the moment. He had stripped off his shoes and vest, and sat on the covered concrete ledge barefoot, feeling the sweat pour down his face and neck as the very air suffocated them.

It was quiet. The children weren't laughing or playing outside, the outdoor kitchen was dead and silent. Carol had declared today a day of chips and granola bars; it was just too hot to stand by a smoking grill and cook hot food that nobody wanted.

And then the bottom fell out.

The clouds were puffy, the sun out. It came as a complete shock; Daryl didn't even recognize what was going on until Carl jumped up and belly laughed. He stripped down to his underwear right then and there and basked in the rain, Rick and the clearers quickly following suit.

He felt a deep, bellowing laugh echoing out of his chest as he dropped his gun and ran down the steps, onto the baking concrete as ice cold rain poured over his face and into his hair, evaporating on the concrete, leaving a cloud of vapor rising from the pavements.

And then the screaming started.

People poured from inside the prison, laughing and pulling off their clothes as they went, some just stopping and laying down on the concrete right where they stood. Carol walked around with a big plastic tub of swimsuits, passing them out with smiles and laughter, her own one-piece revealing soft curves and pale thighs that had not seen the light of day in years.

He smiled to himself as people rushed back inside to change into store-tagged bikinis and swim trunks. There wasn't much of an occasion these days to wear swimsuits, but Carol had been prepared, and everyone got one.

He remembered the run the women had gone on the week before, how they had come back with trunk after trunk of new clothes to replace the stained-up monstrosities the rest of the prison had flaunted through the winter. He had wondered what that lone, shut tub had held.

Now he knew. The looks on the kids faces as they changed into brand new clothing in the middle of the basketball court, not a care in the world, was so joyous he couldn't help but laugh. Even Judith sat in a small puddle next to a bikini-clad Beth, splashing around in a swim diaper and a little Dora the Explorer two-piece, laughing her head off as the rain cascaded down her face and into her eyelashes, giggling and licking her lips.

It was perfect. The perfect solution to the first heat wave of the spring.

It wasn't long before Carol found him, the nearly empty bin balanced against her hip. She sauntered up to him barefoot and cocked her head as she assessed him, then rummaging through the bin until she came out with a pair of swim trunks so bright and flowery he almost choked.

She grinned at him knowingly and yanked the tag off, handing them over. He took it from her, suddenly realizing she wasn't joking, that she actually wanted him to wear it.

She knew he hated it. And she didn't care.

He swallowed hard and took it from her.

"Um," he mumbled. "Thanks."

She threw her head back and laughed.

"Go on now," she chided, nodding towards the watchtower. "Go change."

He gulped again and fisted the fabric in his hands, turning slowly to go put the dreaded thing on. He could already feel the laughter from his friends in the back of his mind as he trudged towards the door, yelping in surprise as a hand slapped at his ass, sending him scuttling towards the watchtower in desperation to get away from the crazy woman.

"Hurry up!" She hollered.

"Yeah, Daryl!" Glenn yelled, cupping his hands over his mouth with a wry smirk. "Your woman wants to see those tats up close and personal!"

The door slammed shut behind him before he could offer a reply.

**-/-/-/-******

**AN #2: Hope y'all liked it! Reviews and constructive criticism are love! :3**


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